


Lazy Columbian Afternoons

by orphan_account



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: F/M, Multi, One Shot Collection, Slight Booker/Elizabeth sipping if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 05:03:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just kiss yourself, just fuckin do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Surprise: Version 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Robert Taking Control for a Change](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/21741) by MuffinPies. 



> This work is unedited and was typed on a whim without a care for making it nice and polished. So I apologize ahead of time for any mistakes. I try to write once a week and these warm ups never really get edited.

A subversion of roles can be a frightening thing. A simple change in a long equation spanning one’s life that has formulated every aspect of one’s life. For this to be altered and forced aside can shock one to the very core.

Rosalind walked down Comstock’s halls after a brief and always unpleasant meeting, the wall paper and the slaves screaming opulence befitting the wicked prophet, and the man and woman of color seemed to all rush away from her. It was no odd thing, for a slave or a freeman. as she was a vicious force who could make cities tumble as quickly as she could grant them wings (or balloons, she thinks maliciously).

A turn of corners and she seemed to be alone, she strolled easily to the exit pondering exactly when Lady Comstock would realize she was not merely ‘playing dumb’ when she said she had no business of that nature with her husband. Of course after a few moments even the great Lady could not handle her aura and forced her out in a fit of hollow jealousy and fear.

She almost paused in the halls and once she realized she did she pretended to be interested in a painting. It was of Rosalind herself, painting and placed in the house in a display of thanks for all of her work. It meant nothing to her. 

A small crackle.

“She’s quite beautiful isn't she?” A masculine voice whispered from beside her and she left soft lips press against her cheek. She did not need to see to know who it was and her cheeks flushed deeply as a gentle hand laid over her neck. “Wh-“

“Shhh love. Hurry home, I miss you.”


	2. Surprise: Version 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short fic is inspired by the same artwork the first version is. A link can be found in the first chapter!
> 
> A second version was requested by my friend Liddy, so I typed this right after the first and it feels more developed to me. Enjoy and feel free to leave any constructive crit! I don't get offended easy so feel free to tear me a new one! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Papers, data, and solitude. These things morphed Rosalind’s entire life and had always stood by her. Of course she was always smiling around them a bit more lately. As much as it annoyed her to the very core she was a happier woman. She was terrified to let the press know a single thing about it lest they think her soft.

The thought of undoing all of her work she had put in to achieve her station left her sitting a little bit taller. She had the data Robert had sent over about the stability of portals of varying sizes. And maybe a little extra…

Somewhere down the line it became habit of him to include personal letters. The first time he was daft enough to hand it in separately Making a point of the personal connection and she had denied it. Of course then he would play like a proper Lutece. Slipping the letter in with the stack of constants. Sometimes so bold as to directly include it in the study.

“…and so the instability of the molecular form is most commonly— You know I was in the park the other day and I saw a woman much like you. Then I saw her husband demean her and I quickly realized you would never tolerate that sort of thing. But the thought of you being where I am invigorated me and sent me right back to my lab to triple check my results.”

She had nearly yelped when Comstock had invited himself in and almost found that note while snooping through her papers.

A sharp crack and a fizzle.

“And just what are you smiling about?” A smooth voice laughed and made Rosalind jump. “ You're looking at the report fondly. Would it be safe to assume you are thinking of me?” He leaned over and pecked her cheekbone, but she quickly pulled herself together and turned to him right as his hand rested on her neck. This was the first time she had ever beheld Robert and she was floored by the reflection. Pale cheeks with flattering freckles and bright blue eyes. She was distracted for a moment and her throat dried as she realized how much she loved their red hair. It had never looked so nice to her before.

“And just what makes you so sure it’s you I am thinking of?” She accused, raising a critical brow that might have been threatening if her cheeks weren't so brightly colored. It only hit her then that this was not only the first time to see him, but to touch him. To feel his fingers over her thin neck.

“Your finger was stroking one of my letters to you.” She looked down to the beautiful penmanship and sighed as it was in fact his personal addition. “It isn't wise to assume dear brother, now what are you doing with this tear! We aren't even sure if we can maintain th—!”

Robert had surged forward, catching her lips and making her pulse race as they shared their second touch.


	3. God Only Knows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a Tumblr post (night blogging yay) someone said "what if Bioshock Infinite was a musical"? I reblogged it with this little bit. Slightly shippy Booker/Elizabeth. Turn back now if you have serious issues with that.

The once beautiful streets of the city were littered with police and their blood flowed freely across the cobblestones. They had almost reached another break, the Comstock house had been too much for too long and Elizabeth tried to soldier on but in the darkness of the night she lapsed. She wasn’t made for this, she didn’t want to think she was.

And while she did not consider for a moment calling off their hunt she shivered in the cold Columbian air. Booker must have noticed because he moved closer to her and reached out to wrap an arm around her thin shoulders. She was not afraid to close the space between them until she pressed against his bandaged side. There were no words, she stilled and did not dare to break the silence like she would have before. But the tenseness was still there. Booker could tell. His bandaged hand stroked her hair and Booker sang softly to her.

“I may not always love you.” He couldn’t see her face in the dark but he thought he heard a soft sigh from her. Her shoulders lifting slightly before dropping.

“But as long as there are stars above you.  
You never need to doubt it.  
I’ll make you so sure about it.”

“God only knows what I’d be without you.” She turned her head up to him and smiled, the bruised skin around her eye making the blue of her iris brighter. It was terribly morbid but hardly unsettling, a sort of morbid beauty that seemed to poison anything Booker loved.

“If you should ever leave me.  
Though life would still go on believe me.  
The world could show nothing to me.  
So what good would living do me?”

She shifted, grabbing her skirts so she could move her legs over his lap and she could curl against his chest like a child. One dainty hand fisted itself in his shirt and the hand over her shoulders moved to rub her back, his broken and jagged nails sometimes catching on the laces of her corset.

“God only know what I’d be without you.”

Booker places a soft kiss to the crown of her hair.

“God only know what I’d be without you.”


End file.
